2003/04/18

I had my first training shift today, and I think it went pretty well. I didn't screw anything up majorly, although I was probably somewhat slower than some. However, I had a smile on my face most of the time and I had fun chatting with my new coworkers and the customers, so that was cool. I found out that the guy I'd always thought hated me is actually really nice, so no more fear there. :) My legs and feet were killing me by the end of the shift -- even before that, actually -- so I think I'm going to get new lifts for my shoes. They're very comfy, but I need some more in the soles if I'm going to wear them for long stretches of just standing in one place.

It's weird; I still feel somewhat disconnected from the whole place, in a way. Although the guy training me did say to someone else that I was amazing, and I'd been learning really quickly, which is cool. I find the cash system there is much like the cash system at the animal hospital; very much regulated by slow slow computers (although more stable ones), it's just a matter of learning new codes. *shrug* I've a slight knack for puzzling out software without too much effort; give me anything that isn't highly highly specialized and I can usually get up to semi-snuff on it pretty quickly.

I've also been tired since I got home today, and yet here I sit at the computer, doing nothing productive. I think I got so used to being in front of the computer over the last few days that I can't break away... although the bed is so very tempting...

I woke up around 8:30 to hear my parents yelling at each other in a joking manner. I was tempted to yell back from my room, but anything I said would have come out highly muffled and incoherent, although to my mind it would've been a cutting remark yelled at the top of my lungs. I'm funny when I'm communicating while tired. :) My mom has called me at times and woken me up; she'll keep talking to me if she knows I have to be up (although she often overestimates at what hour I need to be up and about), despite my incoherency. At the time, I think I make great sense, but later, I'll think back to our "conversation" and realize I was talking absolute nonsense.

My "favourite" (please note sarcastic quotes) is when she calls me and goes, "Oh, did I wake you up?" I usually manage an affirmative troll-like grunt, to which she'll say, "Oh, go back to sleep, call me when you wake up." I generally try for about five minutes to get back to sleep before the pressing demands of my bladder and my semi-awoken state combine to make sleep impossible, and I promptly call her back, grouchy and grumblingly demand to know what it was she wanted. I'm not very ferocious when I'm tired.

Of course, my favourite (no quotes) story to tell about stupidities while tired is as follows: sleeping over at a boyfriend's place once, I (semi-) wake to see him reading in bed next to me. In my mind: I reach over to lovingly pat his face and say, "Morning." (I never say "good" morning -- what the hell's so good about being up before noon?). I accidentally jab him slightly in the cheek, my coordination not being at its peak upon first blink of day. I apologize for jabbing him, to which he replies, "What?" and I say, "I didn't mean to jab you like that, I meant to pat you on the cheek." He says it doesn't matter, it didn't hurt (or something along those lines).

What actually happened: I wake to see him reading in bed. I reach over to pat him lovingly on the cheek and accidentally jab him slightly. I fall back asleep for approximately twenty minutes, at which point I awake once more to apologize for my previous actions (see above conversation). Now, I can't claim that I was as coherent as it seemed -- after all, I was asked to repeat myself and such -- but does the boyfriend's confusion over the jabbing incident now become clear? To my mind, this was a linear string of events. To him, it was a drawn out process, during which he'd actually forgotten about my clever ruse to poke out his eye or brain or some other such thing under the guise of sheer exhaustion and not fully-wakefulness... at least until I mumblingly apologized for it.

When you're tired enough or feeling goofy enough, anything can become an adverb.

I'm now going to go cookieingly off to bed. The fish support my plan wholeheartedly ... wait, that one's real. Hrm. Well, they support it so long as there's food involved for them.

*yawn* It's actually nice to be tired. So many times the last while, I've been feeling somewhat tired, then going to bed and feeling wired for awhile. Digger hasn't really appreciated all of my kicking and tossing and turning, poor guy. He just wants the mad snugglage. Anyhow, off to bed. Tomorrow's a thrilling day filled with reading -- I have a short story to read for English, then approximately 1000 pages (probably more) of dull dull dull dull dull articles for Intercultural. Did I mention I find them less-than-thrilling? Oh, right. Sorry for the redundancy. And for repeating myself. ;)